


As a Lie

by elysiumwaits



Series: Tumblr Prompts/Fics [4]
Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Just General Angst and Unhappiness, Mafia AU, No happy ending here, but not really a sad one either, lying, undercover cop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 08:38:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19720123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Written for a kiss meme on Tumblr. Come hang out and send prompts/asks with me at elysiumwaits@gmail.com





	As a Lie

**Author's Note:**

> This is for you, my dear goblin. Please enjoy this angsty dark version of that mafia AU we came up with for the comic a while ago.

Jareth lies like he breathes - without a thought, naturally as anything, with a smile on his face. He looks her in the eye when he lies, holds her in his arms and weaves intricate webs of spider’s silk that, should one single thread be pulled, the whole thing will come down like a house of cards and bury them both in the carnage. The thing is, though, that the lies are the gilded edges of a greater truth, little ones that Sarah can see through the cracks of his facade, the ones that she’s not even sure he knows he gives away.

He lies with his words, but Jareth’s body speaks a different truth. It’s in the way that he pulls her close in the early hours of the morning before their alarms go off, arms tight and possessive. It’s in the little gestures, the gentle thumb at the seam of Sarah’s lips when she’s lost in her anxiety, a silent confession of his concern. It’s in the big gestures, too, the ones that give him away to everyone, not just her - the crushing weight of his body crashing into hers when the gun comes out at the gala.

Jareth doesn’t lie when he kisses her. He can’t hide it in a shroud of pretty words when his mouth is on hers, gives himself away with desperate hands and a desire to keep going even if at the sacrifice of his own breath. And perhaps that’s the crux of it - Jareth lies like breathes, but he can’t breathe when he’s kissing Sarah.

“What happened today?” Sarah asks over dinner that he’ll pay for, reservations at some fine establishment, wearing the dress he bought for her. She’ll go back to his penthouse in his fancy car, relax in his spacious shower, crawl under his soft, expensive sheets.

“Nothing at all,” Jareth says. He lies to himself too - he knows that she knows how he makes his money, and every bit of it is soaked in blood. He tells himself that he’s protecting her by keeping her out of it, and in that lie there’s another truth for her to notice. 

She hums, doesn’t call him on it. That’s not her place, after all. They each have the roles they play, and hers is the innocent safe-haven of his life. She’s not supposed to know about the Underground, the dark underbelly of his city, the throne he’s built for himself there. 

Sarah doesn’t ask him the important questions, but he gives her answers she needs anyway.

Then there are the lies that have become truths over the years, an inevitable progression of their relationship. 

_ “I move the stars for no one _ ,” he had told her once, arrogant and eyes glittering in the dark of his office. Sarah doesn’t even ask anymore, and he bends over backwards to keep her comfortable. Then, more recently, “ _ Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you _ .” He  _ wants _ it to be the truth, is the thing, wants to believe himself that altruistic, but she knows better - she could die tomorrow, and he’d be harder for it, but he would carry on.

Here is one of her lies become truths:  _ “You have no power over me _ .”

She is not unaffected, now, not as full of anger as she was at the start of this. Now, Sarah is tired more than she is angry, weighed down by what she has done and what she has yet to do. The choices she’s made, the choices she’s afraid she  _ will _ make. 

They leave the restaurant, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, and she wonders, as she often does, if he realizes she lies just as much as he does. Her lies, though, are not as outright - he does most of the work for her in assumption and perception. 

He opens the door to the car for her. She steps forward, but he catches her, fingers gentle under her chin, pulling her into the kind of kiss that lovers share, the kind that promises future happiness and growing old together and all of those romantic things that Sarah knows she’ll never, ever have. 

As always, when he kisses her, she thinks of the badge in the false-bottom drawer in her dresser, the bugs all throughout his penthouse that she’s placed, all the good work she’s done in the name of taking down a bad man. 

Jareth can’t lie to Sarah when he kisses her - he loves her, deeply and darkly, in turns possessive and pure. 

But, oh, how Sarah can lie to him.


End file.
